


Nothing But the Rain (The Quit Your Grinning and Drop Your Linen Overdub)

by victoria_p (musesfool)



Category: Captain America (2011)
Genre: 5 Things, Best Friends, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Remix, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-22
Updated: 2012-04-22
Packaged: 2017-11-04 02:53:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/388879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musesfool/pseuds/victoria_p
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We have to get out of these wet clothes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing But the Rain (The Quit Your Grinning and Drop Your Linen Overdub)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [havisham](https://archiveofourown.org/users/havisham/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Bring your hips to me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/379866) by [havisham](https://archiveofourown.org/users/havisham/pseuds/havisham). 



> Thanks to Angelgazing for looking it over.

The first time Bucky kisses Steve, they've just rushed home after getting caught in a sudden November downpour. Steve's teeth are chattering and his lips are turning blue, and all Bucky can think about is the last time Steve had pneumonia, how close he'd come to losing him. The frustration wells up, that there's nothing he can do to make Steve better, and the helpless desperation makes him reckless. 

He pushes Steve back against the door and presses his mouth to Steve's, tasting rainwater and coolness before Steve gasps and Bucky slips his tongue into the heat of Steve's mouth. Steve's hands are strong, even if the rest of him isn't, long fingers that curl in Bucky's shirt and hold him close while they kiss, his tongue curling over and around Steve's like they've been doing this for years, and maybe they have been, maybe everything else they've done together has just been a precursor to this.

He pulls back and Steve's eyes flutter open, pupils expanding until all Bucky can see is a thin ring of clear blue around them. "Bucky, what--"

Bucky kisses him again, glad to see the color in his face, the slow flush rising up his neck and painting his cheeks pink, his lips red and kiss-swollen. 

"Don't want you to catch cold," he says roughly when he pulls away the second time. "Let's get you out of these wet clothes."

Steve's eyes go wide, and Bucky laughs and drops his head down onto Steve's shoulder so he can kiss the curve of his throat as he pushes his suspenders down.

Bucky will never forget the way Steve looks at him when they tumble onto the bed, every naked inch pressed together, quickly going from warm to hot as they thrust against each other.

Afterwards, Steve curls up on his side and falls asleep. Bucky has a cigarette and listens to the rain pound against the windows, knowing sex isn't a cure for Steve's medical problems, but hoping it works anyway.

*

Bucky doesn't make it home before the skies open, and by the time he gets there, he's soaked to the skin.

"I just mopped the floor," Steve says as he tracks mud across it to stand in front of the radiator.

Bucky shakes himself, spraying water like a dog. "I guess you're going to have to do it again."

Steve makes a face but doesn't say anything else. Bucky takes off his jacket and drapes it over the radiator, and then takes his muddy shoes and soaking wet socks off, toes curling against the cool linoleum floor.

"There's some soup on the stove."

Bucky strips off his shirt and then fills himself up a mug of soup. It's really just thin broth with some stringy chicken for flavor, but it's warm and not too salty. He takes a few sips, warming up from the inside out, and then sets the mug on the table.

"C'mere." He hooks his fingers in the belt loops on Steve's trousers and pulls him close. "I know a better way to warm up." He presses a kiss to the curve of Steve's throat, enjoying the way his body quivers at the touch. 

It rains for the rest of the night, but neither of them pay it much attention, because it's warm and dry in their bed.

*

There are many perks to being in the Howling Commandos, but they still have to hump through the mud and the rain like any other soldier in this man's army, and Bucky forgets, sometimes, that Steve isn't, well, he isn't little Steve Rogers who caught pneumonia if there was a rumor of rain in the air. This new Steve can--and does--march for hours in any kind of weather without so much as a shiver or a sneeze. In fact, sometimes the jerk does it with a smile on his face.

Bucky's not as sanguine about it. As soon as they get back to headquarters, he heads for the showers, only to be redirected by Steve and Agent Carter into a debriefing with Colonel Phillips and Howard Stark. It doesn't take long, but his clothes are still damp and covered in mud, and all Bucky wants is a reasonably hot shower, a drink, and his bunk. He slips out while Steve is still talking to Stark about some modifications of his costume, and gets to the showers just as most of the other guys are leaving. He prefers it that way, though there will probably be a lot less hot water than he'd hoped for.

He's just washed the soap out of his hair when someone else comes in. Bucky doesn't turn to look, but he says, "There's not much hot water left," just so whoever it is knows he's there.

"Good thing I know a better way to warm up, then," Steve says.

Bucky turns around and--"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph." It's been weeks and he's still not used to Steve's new body. His new everything.

Steve's smile is tight and pained. "No, just me, I'm afraid." He turns on the shower next to Bucky's. "Sorry to disappoint you."

Bucky scrubs a hand through his hair and licks his lips, the water lukewarm on his tongue. "Jesus, Steve. As if you've ever been a disappointment to me." 

Steve's face lights up then, like he really wants to believe what Bucky's saying, and the look is so familiar that it makes Bucky's chest hurt. Because Steve should never have had doubts in the first place. 

"Lemme get a good look at you," he says roughly, stepping back carefully on the wet floor.

Steve flushes, and that's familiar, too, the way it starts at his chest and moves up his throat to his face. It's just that he's a foot taller and two feet broader and built like a brick shithouse. Bucky wants to lick the line of pink rising under his skin, suck the rivulets of water rushing down over his collarbones. He wants to go to his knees and run his lips over the hard line of Steve's cock. He swallows hard. 

"You okay, Buck?"

"Yeah, I--Yeah." He looks up--he's never going to get used to that--and meets Steve's gaze. "You really wanna help me get warmed up?"

Steve's answering smile is slow and knowing this time. "Got a surefire method. My best friend taught me." And then he's pushing Bucky back against the cool tile, his hands big and warm on Bucky's shoulders. He still kisses the same way--slow and careful, like he's still not sure Bucky wants to be kissed, but Bucky's not used to having to tilt his head up to meet a kiss when he's standing. And then he can't think about that anymore because Steve's shoving a wide, muscled thigh between his legs and rubbing at Bucky's dick. Bucky thrusts back, and the two of them rut against each other under the cool spray of the shower, careful not to leave any visible marks. 

When they're done, Bucky slumps back against the wall, only the press of Steve's body holding him up. Steve looks as sleepy and satisfied as Bucky feels, though when he shifts away and Bucky straightens up, he's got that little furrow between his eyebrows again.

"So we're okay?" Steve asks.

Bucky thinks about making a smart remark, because he'd like to accuse Steve of not trusting him, not knowing him as well as Bucky thought he did, but Bucky _has_ been a little standoffish, even though he's promised Steve over and over that even though his body's different, he's not. And Bucky believes that. He's not proud of the fact that he sometimes wishes Steve's greatness was still his personal secret, but even if Steve suspects, Bucky can never, ever let him know it. 

So he grins. "Yeah," he says, reaching up to hook an arm around Steve's neck and pull him in close again. "Jerk."

"Punk," Steve mutters into Bucky's hair, and Bucky thinks that even if they aren't a hundred percent okay right now, they will be soon.

*

When SHIELD finally cuts Bucky loose, he ends up sleeping in Steve's spare bedroom. There were other options--Fury told him there were quarters for him at SHIELD if he wanted them, but Bucky wanted to get out of there as fast as he could. Stark's kid offered him a room at the mansion that serves as the team's headquarters, but there are too many people he doesn't know, people who look at him like the traitor he is. Natasha made a half-hearted offer, but that's one scab neither of them is ready to peel off any time soon. So of course he made his way back to Brooklyn, home again after all these years away, where he tosses and turns in a bedroom next door to his best friend, though neither of them are the same men they were when they last lived together here.

When he finally remembers he's free to go where he wants, when he wants, he starts taking Steve's bike out for long rides when he can't sleep, or when Steve's off being Captain America and Bucky's helpless to protect him because he's not even allowed in on the briefings until he agrees to sign his life away to SHIELD.

He's out somewhere near the airport when it starts to pour, and he rides the whole long way back to Brooklyn Heights through a curtain of rain made up of the heavy, fat raindrops that hurt when they hit, weaving slowly through the early morning rush.

He pushes his way quietly into the apartment, dripping on the neatly polished wood floor even as he takes his boots off by the door and hangs his jacket up. The air smells of cinnamon and coffee, and as much as he's tried not to get used to it, to start thinking of this place as home, some of the tension in him eases as he breathes it in.

Steve's sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and the newspaper. He doesn't look up when Bucky walks in. "I made coffee."

"Okay."

"And there's oatmeal in the slow cooker."

"I figured." He uses a dishtowel to wipe down his wet hair, and when he turns around Steve is watching him carefully. "Smells good," he offers, unsure for once what it is Steve wants from him.

"Good way to warm up." Steve looks down at his cup of coffee, clears his throat, and then looks up at Bucky again. "Though I know a few better ways. Learned them from my best friend."

Bucky freezes, towel still dangling from his hand, his heart suddenly jackhammering in his chest. "You can't--I mean, you still want--After everything I've done, you can't mean that."

"We're none of us who we used to be," Steve says.

"You are. If anything, you're more who you are than you ever were before."

Steve blinks. "I--Okay, I'm just going to take that as a compliment."

Bucky grunts and then remembers to use his words. "That's how I meant it."

"Okay, then." Steve gets up and starts walking towards him, and for a big man, he's graceful, light on his feet. He reaches out and starts unbuckling Bucky's belt. "Let's get you out of these wet clothes."

When Steve leans in and kisses him, Bucky laughs into his mouth.

end


End file.
